


A New Purpose

by TheGoldenPhoenix



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Character Death, F/M, Mandalorian Culture, Mando'a, Original Character(s), Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:08:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24828850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGoldenPhoenix/pseuds/TheGoldenPhoenix
Summary: After a chance meeting deep in the woods, M'ika and the Mandalorian become unlikely allies and work together to protect The Child from those who would harm him. Destiny works in mysterious ways, however, and eventually their alliance evolves into something more.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Original Female Character(s), The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	A New Purpose

M’ika’s POV

The dark forest is eerily quiet as you determinedly continue on your trek, gripping the ragged doll tightly in your hand. The only noises that reach your ears are quiet footsteps and the gentle rustling of leaves above you. Glancing up briefly, you inspect the clouds beyond the treetops. The temperature had dropped quite suddenly, and the clouds were a strange, ominous color. As if on cue, the wind picks up and jostles the branches more forcefully, signaling that a thunderstorm could be approaching. You return your eyes to the woods ahead of you and continue walking, though at a quicker pace. If there is any hope of finding the girl, it has to be soon, and a storm will only make matters that much more difficult.

Takodana’s lonesome sun had set some time ago, and there were no moons to illuminate the forest. Your eyes had adjusted somewhat to the dark, but every now and again you stumble over the uneven ground. As you weave between trees and duck beneath branches, you glance towards where your canine companions lead the way through the forest. The four of them are barely visible as they prod silently along the forest floor. Their jet black coats blend in perfectly with their surroundings, and you have to squint in order to make out their shapes. As nocturnal creatures, they are well suited for this task, and you are grateful for their help. 

Earlier that day, you had heard some commotion in a nearby village about a young girl who had gotten lost while playing in the woods. The child had been missing since the day before yesterday, and her parents were becoming distraught, fearing the worst. You were planning on leaving the village, but after overhearing the tale of the young girl you had paused, uncertain. On the one hand, you didn’t owe these people anything, and you were positive they didn’t trust you, much less like you. They certainly didn’t trust the four vornskrs that had accompanied you to the village. In fact, there was a good chance that a substantial number of the villagers were actually fugitives and criminals in hiding. Still, you couldn’t ignore the fact that a young child was lost, and possibly in imminent danger.

_ What are the chances she’s still alive, and how can anyone hope to find her in such a massive forest? _ you’d thought to yourself. After all, she’d been missing over two days now, and a lot can happen in that time. Not to mention, she had probably covered a lot of ground in those two days, potentially travelling further into the woods and getting herself more lost in the process. You’d gritted your teeth and turned to look at the vornskrs sitting at your heels. No, you didn’t owe these people anything, but you would never forgive yourself if you didn’t at least try. Besides, the five of you were the girl’s best chance.

Now, as you travel through the forest, you wonder if that’s really true. You’d been walking for a few hours now and hadn’t seen a single sign of the girl, even with the vornskrs’ acute sense of smell to guide you. The small, tattered doll in your hand seems to be growing heavier with time. When you had approached the girls’ parents a few hours ago, you had asked them for something personal of hers in the hopes that the child’s scent would aid the vornskrs. For a while it seemed to work, and the canines had trotted confidently into the woods. But as the hours passed and the forest continued to darken, you still had yet to find any concrete clues regarding the girls’ whereabouts. It’s disheartening to say the least, and you’re beginning to think your search is hopeless. But you persist nevertheless, and follow closely behind the loyal canines in front of you. 

You are so deep in your thoughts that you barely notice when the vornskrs suddenly pause. Their bodies go rigid, and they sniff the air as their large ears flick back and forth attentively. You can’t help the optimism that seeps into your mind at their reactions. Perhaps they have found her, and you will be able to rescue the girl after all! Your hopefulness vanishes when you hear Endor, the largest of the pack, let out a low growl beside you. Whatever they are sensing, it is enough to put them on edge, and somehow you doubt the girl is anywhere close.

Cautiously, you inspect your surroundings and listen intently, trying to find the source of their unease. There are plenty of creatures in the forest, of that you’re sure, but what could be so dangerous for four fully-grown vornskrs? Subconsciously, you reach for the weapons strapped to your waist. It is then that you notice light in the distance, albeit very dim. You hold up your hand, telling the canines to stay put. They whine slightly at your command, their hackles still raised in agitation and long tails twitching from side to side. After a few seconds they obey and sit on their haunches, though their muscles are still tensed. Satisfied, your eyes turn back towards the light. As you focus, it flickers slightly against the tree trunks a little ways ahead, making you certain the light is from a campfire.

You consider making your way towards the fire to see who is there. After all, maybe they have seen the girl or are familiar with these woods and could offer you some help.  _ Maker knows I need it,  _ you think to yourself with a sigh. Then again, the vornskrs seemed to sense danger. You hesitate at this thought, but eventually your curiosity and desperation get the better of you. After making sure your weapons are within reach, you readjust the bag on your shoulder and stealthily creep forwards, deciding to stay hidden until you know exactly who (or what) is ahead of you. 

Upon finding a bush with a large tree right beside it, you crouch down and peer over the top of the shrub, all while remaining as silent as possible. A little ways ahead of you is a small clearing, and at the far edge of it, to your surprise, is a ship. It looks rather old and dilapidated from what you can see, and you don’t recognize the model. Nonetheless, it’s a decent size and is in pretty good condition for it’s age. As you inspect it, a weak flickering light dances across it, quickly drawing your gaze to a small campfire where a silhouette sits upon a fallen tree. You squint your eyes to get a better look at the figure, and barely manage to contain your gasp as your vision finally focuses.

Beside the fire is a Mandalorian. He is covered head to toe in full beskar armor, which shines brightly as the light from the flames reflects off of it. His unmistakable T-shaped visor is trained down, focused on the fire before him. As you study the Mandalorian in awe, you notice a long weapon propped up on the log beside him, and your eyes widen even further.

_ An amban rifle!  _ you realize in astonishment. You continue gawking at the Mandalorian’s armor and weapons, and can’t help but think of your father and how excited he would be to see a Mandalorian, much less one clad in complete and glimmering beskar armor. You shake your head slightly, remembering the mission you are on and what is at stake.

From behind the bush, you wonder if you should chance talking to the Mandalorian. With any luck he may have seen the girl, or at least be able to lead you in the right direction. Then again, he is a stranger, and you don’t know anything about him. If it turns out he’s less than amicable, you’re quite confident he would be able to kill you before the pack of vornskrs can come to your aid. He’s a warrior, as all Mandalorians are, and he heavily out arms you. You ponder this for a moment longer before you decide it is safer to avoid him. _ Better to take our chances on our own. _ Reluctantly, you pull your gaze away from the silver beskar and silently turn back towards the vornskr pack. But unfortunately it seems the universe is not on your side today. 

Your tunic catches on the bush, breaking a branch as you pull away. There is an audible  _ crack _ that resounds through the clearing and you freeze, but it’s too late.

“Don’t move!” you hear the Mandalorian shout from behind you.

_ Shit _ .

Still frozen in place, you briefly consider darting into the woods. You’re pretty confident you can outrun him, especially with his armor weighing him down. But against your better judgment you remain still, and he calls out into the forest once more.

“Come out slowly with your hands up,” he orders, his voice tense and slightly distorted by the vocoder.

Very gradually, you rise from your crouched position and turn to face him. Your arms rise above your head (placatingly, you hope) and you realize with some embarrassment that the girl’s doll is still clutched in your hand.  _ Nothing to do about it now _ , you think with gritted teeth as you slowly weave through the brush towards the Mandalorian. Your thoughts drift back to the vornskrs as you walk, hoping they don’t interfere and make matters worse. Ducking under a low hanging branch, you step beyond the edge of trees into the grassy clearing, arms still raised.

As you come into his view, the Mandalorian seems to regard you for a moment, and the blaster he has trained on you lowers ever so slightly. It’s difficult to tell for sure, but you interpret his reaction as surprise.  _ He probably wasn’t expecting to see a woman alone this deep in the forest,  _ you surmise. He quickly recovers, however, and steadies his blaster once again.

“Who are you?” he demands. “What are you doing in the middle of the forest?”

Though you know those are both reasonable questions, you can’t help but be irritated by the challenging tone of his voice.

“I’m no one”, you retort, “and my business in this forest is none of your concern.”

“Actually, it is, because you were just spying on me a second ago,” the Mandalorian responds, his voice louder and more threatening than before.” So I’ll ask again: Who are you and what do you want?”

You glare quietly at him for a second, frustrated at his questions and tone. You also feel unusually vulnerable; the vornskrs are not at your side, and your weapons are not easily accessible when your hands are held above your head. Regardless, you answer him truthfully.

“I wasn’t spying on you, or at least that wasn’t my intention. I’m looking for someone. She’s somewhere in these woods as far as I know.”

He doesn’t lower his weapon, and is seemingly unconvinced, so you reluctantly continue.

“A little girl from one of the nearby villages went missing,” you explain, shaking the doll in your outstretched hand for emphasis, “and I agreed to search for her. We’ve been looking for a few hours now.”

“We?” the Mandalorian immediately picks up on your mistake, and you cringe slightly. If he doesn’t trust you now, what will he think when he finds out about your pack of vornskrs?

“Yes. I’m traveling with… my… uh, my hounds,” you finish lamely. It’s not a complete lie, but it’s hardly the truth either. “They’re a ways back in the woods.”

He considers you for another second, before he slowly lowers his blaster. His body, however, is still tense and ready to jump into action at a moment’s notice. 

You slowly lower your raised arms until they rest by your sides, now somewhat assured that he won’t immediately shoot you. You both look at each other for a while, warily and calculatingly. The clearing is almost completely silent, save for the rising wind that rattles the trees, a solemn reminder that the weather is working against you as well. You grow fidgety under the Mandalorian’s scrutiny, but then a tiny noise from behind him cuts through the uncomfortable silence.

You glance down in surprise when a small bundle of robes waddles up beside him. It stops right next to his boots, and you notice that the creature doesn’t even reach his knees. In the dim light from the campfire, you can tell he has green skin, and massive, pointed ears. Your eyes hone in on the small face, and his large piercing eyes stare straight back into yours. He holds your gaze a few moments longer and for some reason you can’t bring yourself to look away. You’ve never seen anything quite like him, and though his features are a bit .... strange, you also find him to be quite adorable. As if sensing your thoughts, the child lets out a delighted coo followed by a quiet giggle.  _ Has he been hiding behind the Mandalorian this whole time? _ you wonder absentmindedly.

Apparently you’ve been staring at the little guy too long, because the Mandalorian seems to tense once again, and he clears his throat a little too loudly. You turn your attention back to him, and as you glance between the two of them, you suddenly realize something.

“You… you’re both in hiding, aren’t you?“ you ask slowly, and some logical part of your brain warns that you are walking on thin ice. 

The Mandalorian immediately stiffens in response, and you don’t miss the way his fingers tighten on the blaster. Hands instinctively raising once again, you assure him that you mean no harm.

“Are you a bounty hunter?” he asks tightly.

“What? … No. No, I just… I heard some stories about… s-some events on Nevarro. Involving a Mandalorian and… h-his bounty.” 

The Mandalorian doesn’t respond. He only watches you silently, suspicion and mistrust radiating off of him like heat.

Though you know most of this is your own fault, you’re quickly becoming exasperated with this conversation and uncomfortable with his staring. But more than anything else you are frustrated and concerned by how much valuable time has been wasted. You would never forgive yourself if the girl perished because you were distracted. So with newfound courage (or perhaps recklessness, you never really could tell the difference) you address him a bit more forcefully than intended.

“Listen, you can search me for a fob if you want, or a puck for that matter, but I swear I’m not a bounty hunter,” you say, staring straight into that T-shaped visor.” I have no idea who either of you are, or why you’re running or who you’re running from, and frankly, I don’t really care. But if I have any chance of finding this girl in time, I need to go  _ now _ .”

You stand in front of him with narrowed eyes and wait impatiently for him to respond. When he remains quiet, you purse your lips and slowly remove each weapon from your belt, the hand with the doll still raised. One blaster and two curved blades are placed gently on the grass. Straightening again, you raise your arms to the sides and reluctantly give the Mandalorian a pointed look, inviting him to search for a fob. After a brief pause, he holsters his blaster and approaches. Watching you warily, he begins to pat down your torso, your belt, pockets, and thighs, before turning his attention towards your bag. He unzips the small pack of medical supplies that is slung over your shoulder and looks through it for a few moments. All the while, you try to suppress an irritated scoff at his perpetual paranoia. Eventually he moves back in front of you and inclines his head, seemingly satisfied. You nod back curtly, assuming this means you are free to go, and stoop to pick up the weapons lying at your feet. After quickly securing them to your belt, you give the strange duo one last glance. Then you turn on your heel and scurry back to the forest, praying that the dark clouds above take pity on you.

You nearly reach the edge of the clearing when you pause at the sound of the Mandalorian’s voice.

“How old?” he calls.

You turn to look at him in confusion.  _ What does my age have to do with anything? _

“What?”

“The girl you’re looking for, how old is she?” 

_ Oh. That ... makes more sense. _

“I don’t know”, you call back to him, slightly annoyed at yet another delay. “Maybe eight or nine, if I had to guess.”

The warrior thinks about this for a second, and what he says next nearly causes your jaw to drop.  
“I’m coming with you.”


End file.
